Not the Man I Knew
by Talissa
Summary: Jekyll & Hyde: A short piece based on the way "Your Work and Nothing More" insisted on playing itself out in my head


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Now, if it's the concentration of lead in the catalyst which is what made the formula work in the first place, perhaps if I dilute the catalyst somehow, or maybe even replace the lead with something else entirely…

He sighed and unconsciously rubbed at his temples as he scribbled notes and formulae onto the already near-unreadable page. He had a migraine coming on, and he knew that wasn't a good sign. Not that his head hadn't been aching ever since he had first been rejected by the hospital board, but these migraines were sure signs of an imminent transformation. When there were any signs at all. If he could only delay it for just a few more hours so he could get this part of the formula worked out.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even hear the sound of the door opening and a man entering the room. As if struck by the sight of the pain evident in Henry's expression and movements, he took a step backwards, drawing his breath in sharply. He had not realised how deep his friend's pain was until this moment.

Realising that he was not alone any more, Henry looked up, but not before straightening and smoothing his brow to regain the façade of calm that he'd been hiding behind for so many days now.

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Hiding. Yes, that's what I've been doing. Keeping myself behind doors and masks as often as I can, so that I can shelter one who hides within me.

Just as he was about to address the man standing in the doorway, he felt a flash of anger flood through him.

"So," he snarled. "You've come to see whether I can fall further, have you, Utterson? I should have known all along that that was why you hovered so close for so long. What is it that you want? Money? My formulae? Lisa? Yes, that's it. You're as bad as that serpent, Stride. Leave me alone! I don't need you here to gloat over my failure!"

Utterson stiffened with anger, before letting concern for his friend take over. "Henry, you're not well…"

Henry's eyes flashed, as if he was about to spit out a violent rebuttal to that statement, and then he slumped slightly, as if in acknowledgement of defeat. "John…" he began, but didn't know what he could say.

John approached the desk. "You've been locking yourself away in here day and night, and it's taking its toll on you. You're growing pale and wild-eyed, and you seem barely able to tell friend from rival. And I can't see what you think you're achieving from this. People have been saying…"

"People have been saying what? That the doctor has finally flipped it? Or perhaps they're saying that he's cultivating a monster to set loose on London to wreak his bloody revenge?" _I wonder if they know how right they are_, he added silently. "Whatever they're saying, I can see that they haven't been slow to win over my so-called friends to their side." With this, he bent his head over his papers once more, and resumed his scribbling, though this time with a frantic air, as if he was trying to write a wall around himself.

"People have been saying," Utterson resumed relentlessly, "that the good doctor has been becoming so absorbed in his work that nothing else matters to him any more, and that he won't even listen to his friends when they try to lead him from the hole into which he is driving himself."

Jekyll's pen strokes faltered at this, but he kept writing, although not quite as wildly has he had a moment before. Utterson stepped around the side of the desk to kneel by Jekyll's side. He put his hand on Henry's shoulder and said, "Henry, this work of yours is dangerous. It's slowly devouring you, and hurting those around you. The man I see before me now is not the Henry Jekyll I once knew. There's a pain in your eyes that makes my heart bleed in response. Yet rather than coming to me as you always have, you have done nothing but hide."

Jekyll winced violently at the last, then opened his mouth to speak, confusion joining the pain in his eyes. When he spoke, however, his words seemed distant, as if directed at some intangible third party. "I thought at first that it was some strange effect of the formula, or some facet of Hyde's being which had imposed itself upon me. God knows his is a heart that would delight in such obscenities. 'I love Lisa,' I would insist to myself, over and over. 'I love Lisa Carew!' But before long I realised that it wasn't as true as I'd wanted…needed to believe…" he trailed off, still staring beyond Utterson as if in a daze.

"God damn you, Henry," John almost shouted. "Speak plainly! This is no time for a game of riddles."

Jekyll drew his gaze painfully back into the present and looked for a few moments into the eyes of the man kneeling before him. "John," he whispered, "I love you."

Taking the other man's bewildered look for repulsion, he dropped his head into his hands and began to cry in long racking sobs.

Utterson had been startled by what he had heard, yes, but somehow he knew exactly what to do. He took one of Henry's hands in his, and when Henry looked up with eyes red from tears, he reached up to bring their lips together.

The exhilaration and relief that the acceptance of his revelation had brought to him removed all thought of the migraine and what it heralded from Henry's mind, but as his lips touched those of the other man, a familiar fire shot through every nerve in his body as it shifted to house another self. He tried to draw away from John before the transformation was complete, only to feel leaving his lips a sigh of lust more primitive than any he had ever felt. Any Henry Jekyll had ever felt, he should say.

As Utterson stiffened in alarm, Hyde's fingers tightened their hold on his shoulders until his nails drew blood, and as his captive's mouth opened to feast, his lowered to the man's throat and opened to feast.


End file.
